


On the edge of consciousness

by FixaIdea



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:51:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5383031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FixaIdea/pseuds/FixaIdea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how he tries, Marius can't sleep. A late night visit from a fried doesn't exactly help matters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the edge of consciousness

**Author's Note:**

> Another drabble written for a Tumblr prompt.

Marius was restless. All night sleep has been eluding him - he was tossing as turning and when finally his mind went quiet and his consciousness began to let go something jerked him awake again and again.

For hours now he’s been staring at the ceiling, bored and tired. Determined to get some rest, he turned around and hid his face in his pillow, trying to block out the (scarce but still bothersome) noises from the street below.

No such luck. There was the fluttering of restless pigeons on the windowsill, now and then the rattling of a coach and some scruffling sound, as if someone was fiddling with papers…

Marius sat up, frowning. The latter seemed to be coming from inside the house, specifically the drawing room next door. But who could it be, at such an hour? A burglar?

Noiselessly Marius crept out of the bed and reached for the nightstand, in which he kept a pistol exactly for such occasions. It hasn’t been loaded in months, but the intruder didn’t need to know that.

Holding is weapon, trying to look as intimidating as it was humanly possible for a man in a nightgown with an unloaded gun, he swung the door open and sprang out into the drawing room.

‘Oh. Enjolras.’

Indeed it was him, bent above Marius’ desk, the moon painting his pale blond hair almost white. He closed the drawer he has been rummaging in, straightened and looked at Marius.

‘I’m sorry for intruding on you like this, citizen. Courfeyrac has left some papers here for me.’

‘Oh, very well then. I took you for a thief I’m afraid. I shall leave you to your business then.’

Enjolras nodded and smiled one of his barely-there smiles.

Thus placated Marius retreated into his bedroom, packed away his pistol and snuggled back under the covers, beside Cosette.

And shot up again with a start, up and out into the drawing room.

It was empty.


End file.
